“What?” Jake moved to her side.
“Why did we assume it was twelve devices?” She looked up then, her searching eyes moving from Jake to the colonel, then to the assembled officers behind him.
“He said twelve, didn’t he?” Jake asked.
“He set the first one off at twelve,” Evan Furst from the LRFD reminded her.
She nodded distractedly but turned her attention back to the phone. “Oh. Here it is.” She tapped the phone screen. “‘I’ve given you a dozen reasons. Cooperate,’” she read, her voice rising with excitement. “He wanted us to think twelve.”
Colonel Aronson shot Jake a sidelong glance then said, “Yes, but now we have thirteen.”
“Right. Not a dozen-dozen, but aBaker’s dozen,” she announced, as if handing him the key to the whole case on a platter.
Again, the colonel looked to Jake, who shrugged. “She isn’t wrong. And this guy is all about the games.”
“He thinks he’s smarter than everyone,” Cass chimed in. “I remember how he was with the Jacksonville police when they came to arrest him, and with the prosecutor, for that matter. He thinks he still has the upper hand, even if we’re on to him.”
“Apparently, he does,” Aronson said.
“I don’t think the RV is on a timer, sir.” He cleared his throat and forged ahead. “I believe Baker knew we were closing in and he rigged something in the computer setup to be the trigger. If we try to extract anything from there, we could blow all our evidence sky-high.”
Aronson turned to the agency leads. “Check in with your teams and see where we are with disabling the other devices.”
The order still hung in the air when a woman’s voice broke through on the radio. “Cattle Barn 1 is clear, sir.”
Aronson reached for his mic. “Confirm successful containment.”
“Affirmative, sir. Containment complete,” the woman on the other end confirmed.
The assembled group expelled a collective sigh. “Ten-four. Good work.”
“Heading over to help at Swine and Sheep,” she said. “Sergeant Hinson will deliver the disabled device to base.”
The team lead from the LRPD smiled. Hinson and the woman who called the message in were clearly part of his team. He exchanged a speaking glance with the colonel, then pulled out his radio. “You’re the best, Loftus. Way to go.”
“Thank you, sir,” came the brisk reply.
Aronson clapped his hands, drawing their attention back to him. “Okay, we have thirteen devices identified, seven detonated, two disarmed, two out of bounds for now, two in progress.” He ran down the list. Turning back to Jake, he said, “What’s your read on this guy?”
Jake raised his shoulders in a helpless shrug, then gestured to Cass. “I’m not your best resource, Colonel.”
Aronson jerked his chin up in acknowledgment. “No. Of course.” He turned to the team leads. “Go check on your people. We’re losing daylight, and I want those two deactivated so we can focus on our wildcards.”
He turned, surveying the sprawling fairgrounds spread out around them with his hands on his hips while he waited for the others to clear out. When it was the three of them and Max, the colonel slanted his head in the direction of the arena doors. “Come in. This time, we can sit and talk out what we know without worrying about puking our guts up.”
Jake turned and gently lifted Max off the bed of the cart. “Speak for yourself, sir. My stomach is still queasy.”
He set the dog down and checked to be sure the bandage was still holding. Max fixed him with a bland stare as if to ask if the theatrics were necessary.
Cass turned and ran a hand along the crease of the cart seat before grabbing her balled-up blazer and falling into step behind the colonel. “Where’s Bud Thompson?”
“He and a few of the SWAT guys are holding the perimeter around the carousel,” Aronson informed her.
“Bud doesn’t need to be so close to the bomb,” she said worriedly.
“Says the woman who sat with it strapped to her back for hours,” Jake said in a laconic drawl. “He knows what he’s doing.”
“I tried to tell you the same thing, but you seemed to think I had no business doing what I did.”
